


War of Hearts

by Labyrinth_Runner



Category: Doctor Sleep (2019), Doctor Sleep - Stephen King
Genre: Civil War AU, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:02:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28727037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Labyrinth_Runner/pseuds/Labyrinth_Runner
Summary: When your father is injured during the war, Captain Torrance risks life and limb to see the General safely home. By doing so, he finds himself in your father's debt, a debt he intends to pay by offering up his child to be the Captain's bride. However, this marriage is as unconventional as its inception.
Relationships: Dan "Danny" Torrance/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	1. War of Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> Potentially might have multiple chapters

When the war office had contacted you to let you know that your father was missing in action, the world had slowed. Your mother fell to her knees, and you saw her pray for his safe return. It was an act of desperation she had not shown in the years since your father had left to fight in the war, saying that she trusted God to bring him home and to pray for his safe return would be an act of doubt. Now, you watched fear overtake that feeling of assuredness. You watched her break as she buried her face in your skirts. Your roles reversed as you found yourself comforting her as she had always comforted you.

Locking eyes with the officer on your front step, you nodded. He gave you a regretful nod and left you to pick up the pieces.

Since then, days in your household were quiet. It was almost as if your mother were afraid that showing any sense of normalcy would be to show some higher power that your father was not truly needed, but you knew the truth. Your father was the other half of her heart. Without him, she was only half living. It was hard to watch, especially since you had no way of helping her cope, because you couldn’t fathom what it would be like to be so tethered to another person.

One day, you were sitting on the window seat in the parlor. Your needlework rested in your lap as you looked out at the sun shower on the other side of the glass. You always found sun showers to be a hypocritical kind of weather. It was as if the sky were offering hope while also mourning a loss. Looking to the west, you could see clearer skies, which you looked forward to, contemplating on taking a ride before dinner just to get out of the house. 

Movement caught your eye, and you turned towards the source. There was a horse riding through the gate of the house at top speed with two men atop it. One seemed worse for wear.

You were to your feet and running to the door, calling out for your mother. The door was thrown open as the horse came to a stop in front of the steps.

Feet raced towards you and your mother was out in the rain helping the wounded man from his horse. “Oh, darling,” she cried as she reunited with your father.

The other man wrapped an arm around your father’s back to lead him back into the house. Together with your mother, they got him up and into bed while you sent for the doctor. 

Once the doctor arrived, you were making tea to serve to this other man who had accompanied your father home. Out of the corner of your eye, you appraised him.

He was handsome, albeit a tad scruffy. Then again, the war had run long and you figured that men weren’t as concerned with their physical appearance as much as they were concerned with survival.

“Tea, Captain?” you asked as you set the tray on the table.

“I’ll have a cup, since you went through all the trouble,” he murmured, taking the proffered saucer. He watched you wearily, a look of sympathy in his eyes.

“You must have ridden for a long time,” you murmured as you settled on the sofa across from him.

“We road for days, Miss,” he replied, looking down at the amber liquid in his cup, no doubt wishing it was something stronger. “After the battle, we were separated from our unit. Then we came across a few rebel scouts. Your father was injured while we… _dispatched_ them. I promised him I’d get him home to recover.”

“Father’s last letter through the lines said he was marching South and we would not hear from him for a while. You’re meaning to tell me that you made your way through rebel lines just to get him home?” you asked, wide-eyed.

“Miss, the General has always had my back. I just wanted to have his,” he said with a small smile.

You nodded, “I see. Well, if you’ll excuse me, Captain…?”

“Torrance,” he murmured. “Dan Torrance.”

“If you’ll excuse me, Captain Torrance, I’d like to check on my father,” you replied, getting up to leave.

When you reached the upstairs bedroom, you found your father propped up in bed. His eyes lit up when he saw you, “Well, if it isn’t my pride and joy.”

Your corners of your eyes crinkled as you came over to sit on the edge of his bed. Taking his hand, you placed a kiss to his knuckles, “You gave mother quite a scare.”

“I always keep her on her toes,” he said playfully, but there was guilt in his eyes. 

“We’re just glad you’re home,” you murmured, “Captain Torrance told me he snuck you through Rebel lines.”

“That the boy did. I’ll see to it that there’s a promotion in his future,” your father grinned. “He’s a fine man.”

“I’m sure he is.”

“And he’ll make a fine husband.”

“I’m sure his wife will be lucky to have him,” you replied absentmindedly.

“I’d like to see the two of you wed before he’s called back,” your father said pointedly.

“Wed?” you asked, trying to keep your voice under control. “But, father, I hardly know the man.”

“Darling, I want to know that should something happen to me, that you and your mother will be taken care of. I trust Captain Torrance with my life,” your father said adamantly.

“And I am expected to trust him with my heart?” you asked incredulously. Shaking your head in disbelief, you got up to leave, ignoring how your father called after you. 

Making your way down the stairs, you locked eyes with the Captain through the doorway as he sat across from your mother, no doubt regaling her with tales of his bravery. You felt hollow. The world seemed to spin like when your corset had been laced too tight when you were younger. You needed air. Stumbling towards the door, you walked out into the sun shower, walking blindly towards the garden.

 _A sun shower,_ you thought with disdain, _the sun shining because my father has returned, yet mourning the loss of my freedom._

Footsteps thudded on the ground behind you and the rain stopped pelting your back. You looked up to see an umbrella over your head as the holder stood in the downpour.

“I take it he told you,” Captain Torrance sighed.

“Were you expecting a blushing bride?” you sniffed, “Because you will be sorely mistaken.”

“I didn’t ask for this.”

You rounded on him, “Oh, so you don’t even want me?”

Somehow, that hurt worse. You could see it in his eyes that he knew he regretted the words.

“Please, just come back inside,” he pleaded. 

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you nodded and followed him back into the house. You parted ways with him once inside, retreating to your room.

Captain Torrance stayed with your family, but you skirted around him to the best of your ability. Part of you figured that you should try to get to know him, seeing as he was to be your husband, but you needed to work through your own feelings first. 

Anger melted into nervousness as your wedding day approached. As you stood in front of your mirror, turning this way and that in your dress, you felt your heart fluttering in your chest.

“He’s a nice man,” your mother stated from the doorway.

“So I’ve been led to believe,” you sighed, smoothing out your dress.

Your mother crossed over to pick up your veil from the vanity. Carefully, she nestled it into your hair. “Your father wouldn’t make this match if he didn’t trust him.”

“I know,” you admitted, turning towards her. “Part of me just hoped that I would have some say in such a momentous decision.”

“That’s a luxury few have,” your mother said with a small smile. 

“But you love father,” you replied.

“I didn’t always,” she sighed, sitting on the edge of your bed. “Your father and I were married as part of an arrangement our fathers made when they were at West Point together. It further solidified their friendship. Growing up, I greatly disliked your father.” She leaned in conspiratorially, “He used to pull my pigtails and made fun of my freckles during the summer.” A far away look entered her eyes. “Then we grew up. He was no longer that boyish brute I had known. He grew into a handsome man with kind eyes who protected me from the world. When we married, we were only friends, but my dear that is the best foundation. Love grew swiftly as we learned to laugh with one another. Then we had you,” she smiled wide, “and I realized that I couldn’t imagine my life with anyone else.”

You leaned against your bed post, “Do you think I can have that with Captain Torrance?”

“I think you can have whatever you dream as long as you keep an open mind,” she replied, getting up. “Now, come along, dearest. Everyone is waiting.”

Nodding, you let your mother lead you down the stairs to where your father was waiting. You took his good arm and walked with him down the aisle. 

Although the priest was speaking, you barely heard him over the thud of your heart. In truth, you weren’t very present in the moment. Instead, your mind was racing ahead to that night, wondering what was to become of you. Your betrothed vowed himself to you in words you did not hear, and you repeated your own back like you were reciting a poem. Captain Torrance’s hand was so warm around yours as he gave you reassuring squeezes every once in a while. Every squeeze brought you back to the moment and sent you drowning in a concerned pair of blue eyes. 

“I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss your bride,” the priest stated.

You tensed up, expecting it to be awkward as Captain Torrance cupped your cheek and leaned in to kiss you. It was short and sweet, and for some reason you were disappointed. However, it wasn’t disappointment in the kiss itself. It was disappointment in the fact that it was so short.

The two of you turned out to face your guests, walking through them towards the reception. As you split apart to mingle, you came up with the brilliant idea of dancing the night away with anyone who would ask, hoping it would extend the night and make you too tired to perform your marital duties later. You took turn upon turn around the room, passing hands and entertaining your guests. At first, you didn’t care what your new husband did, catching him talking to your guests here and there out of the corner of your eye. However, you found it strange that he did not ask to cut in.

As the clock struck nine, you gracefully removed yourself from the dance floor to find him. He was nowhere in the house. Only when you stepped out into the cool night air did you find him on the porch with a glass in his hand. Drawing closer, you noticed it was just water.

“No liquid courage?” you teased.

A sad smile settled on his face as he looked down at the glass in his hands, “No. I only run on true courage or cowardice these days.”

“You can’t be a coward if any of the tales my father has told me this week are to be believed,” you murmured as you leaned against the railing next to him.

An awkward silence settled between the two of you as you looked out into the night. It was as if both of you didn’t know the words to say. You noticed him studying you, eyes trailing down your features as if trying to memorize them. His hand rested inches from yours, but he didn’t dare to move it closer.

“You don’t have to worry,” he said softly, “I’m never going to touch you.”

“Then what exactly do you get out of this arrangement?” you asked, turning to face him.

“Enough that I won’t ever demand that of you,” he replied.

“Right,” you smiled ruefully, “I’m sure the stocks in my father’s company that he undoubtedly gave you can buy you the finest ladies.” The words were said with a tinge of resentment at the fact that you were now trapped in a marriage while he could still look elsewhere.

Dan wet his lips before turning away, “I refused them. After all, I didn’t earn them.”

You turned to him in shock, “Then what do you get out o this arrangement?”

“A companion,” he said before downing the rest of his drink, “Now, we should head back inside before our guests miss us. After all, I believe I owe you a dance. If you aren’t too tired of dancing yet, that is.” He held his arm out to you. After a moment of bewilderment, you took it, allowing him to lead you back into the fray.

Once inside, his smile slid back on his face and you somehow felt at ease. But, in the back of your mind you registered just how strange your situation was. You were the wife of Captain Torrance. You knew he was a good man, but in your heart you also knew you had just married an enigma. There was so much more beneath the surface that you could only wonder if you would ever truly know him.


	2. Love Heals

Your wedding night was quiet. He helped you with the ties of your gown and then retired to his own room. The bed felt too big for just you alone as you tossed and turned trying to get comfortable. Eventually, you grew tired of it and slipped on your robe before padding down the hall.

You took a steeling breath before gently rapping your knuckles against the door.

The door was open in a matter of seconds and he was looking down at you with concern in his eyes, “Couldn’t sleep?”

“The bed is just…” you trailed off, looking down at your feet. You felt silly, standing in front of this stranger because you couldn’t sleep.

Gently, he tipped your chin back up so that you would look at him, “Would you like to sleep in here?” His voice was soft.

You allowed yourself to nod.

A small smile settled on his lips as he stepped aside for you to enter. 

Tucking your arms behind your back, you stepped into his candlelit room. You noted that his bed wasn’t turned down yet, meaning he hadn’t even gone to bed. As you turned back to him, you realized he was still in his suit.

“What were you doing before I knocked?” you asked curiously as you sat on the edge of the bed.

“I was writing to my estate to have them ready the manor for you,” he replied.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, “You want me to go to the manor without you?”

“It’s to be your home,” he said, brows furrowing.

“But you won’t be there,” you murmured.

“If you would like, you can host as many friends as you want,” he offered as he leaned against his desk.

If you were being honest, you weren’t sure you were ready to leave home and your parents. “How far away is it?”

“Two day’s ride,” he estimated. “It’s in upstate New York. I own an apple orchard.”

Somehow, you could see that. You rested your hands on your hips as you came over to him, “Am I expected to pick these apples?”

“Only if you want to eat or cook with them,” he smirked.

You smiled back, feeling the tension break. Then, you folded your hands in front of you. “When do you have to go back to the frontline?”

“At the end of the week,” he replied, gently reaching forward to take your hands in his. They were warm and slightly rough against your skin as he dragged his thumb back and forth across the backs of your hand.

“You should get some rest,” you said softly, taking your hands back. Your hands trembled slightly as you reached up to unbutton his vest. “At the very least, you should get more comfortable.”

“You don’t have to do that,” he said, taking your hand and kissing your finger tips. “Get some sleep. I’ll join you when I finish this letter.”

You withdrew from him, slightly in relief, and slightly in disappointment. Gingerly, you took your robe off and hung it off the bed post before slipping into bed. After closing your eyes, you let the soft sound of his pen dragging across a page lull you to sleep.

The days passed by swiftly. It wasn’t nearly enough time to truly get to know your husband. Soon enough, you found yourself at the train station about to say goodbye.

“Well, this next one is mine,” he murmured as you stood there on the platform.

“Will you write to me?” you asked, a little too eagerly.

“If you wish it,” he said with a slight smile. “Although, I don’t suppose that my stories of war would be pleasant to hear.”

“If you don’t wish to talk about war, then romance me instead,” you shot back.

A slight tinge of pink settled into his cheeks. “Alright, Mrs. Torrance. I think I can do that.”

 _Mrs. Torrance_. It was like an arrow to your heart.

His train pulled up to the station and he gave you an apologetic look. “I wish we had more time.”

“Win the war and you’ll be back before you know it,” you replied with a soft smile. “Be safe, Captain Torrance.”

“I’ll try to come back to you in one piece,” he said, taking your hand and giving it a squeeze.

It wasn’t enough for the occasion. He was going off to fight and you might never see him again. Sure, you barely knew him and had only been married for a week, but a hand squeeze was not enough for the gravity of the situation. You tipped up on your toes to kiss his cheek, letting your lips linger on his skin for a moment more than you would have a week ago.

“Good bye, Captain,” you said as you pulled back.

“Good bye, my dear,” he grinned before saluting the superior officer ushering troops onto the train.

You stayed on the platform longer than necessary, not moving from your spot until the train was far into the distance and had disappeared around the bend. Then, you got into the carriage with all your things atop it and rode for your new home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The manor sprawled in front of you. An orchard engulfed the horizon around the house and you could not help the smile on your face. It was so much grander than he had told you. 

As the carriage pulled up the drive, you let a small chuckle escape your lips. This was your _home_? It was so much more than you could have imagined. Stepping out of the carriage, the cool, crisp air filled your lungs. It was so much cleaner than the city.

Hired help unloaded your bags into the manor as you went up the stairs of the porch. 

“Mrs. Torrance, this was left for you,” the butler said before handing you a letter. 

You took it, walking absentmindedly through the house as you explored. 

Eventually, you happened upon what you figured was your husband’s study. Books lined the walls and a large brown mahogany desk sat amidst it all. You ran your hand along the leather chair before sitting down and opening the letter.

_Dear wife,_

_If you’re reading this, then you have arrived at Helen Rivington Estate without me. It’s something I would have liked to avoid. After all, I should have carried you across the threshold as any husband ought. I can only hope that absence will make the heart grow fonder. In lieu of my physically being there, I thought I would leave you a little hunt around the grounds to show you my favorite places._

_Until we meet again,_

_Dan_

You flipped the letter over and found a series of clues. A grin broke across your face as you started off on your quest.

The hunt took you all around the estate as you found little clues and poems that let you get to know the man you had married more and more. By the end of it all, you found yourself in a secret library behind the room you’d started in. Light streamed in through a stained glass window, coating a plush chair in a warm glow. If the room outside was your husband’s study, then this would be your special place that you could go to be close to him when he needed to work.

You sat down on the chair and started to pen your first letter to him, telling him all about your day’s adventures. Words flowed freely with more ease than earlier that week. You were comfortable with who you were, and what it would be like to be Mrs. Torrance.

It was the first letter of many that the two of you sent back and forth for months while he was away. With each stroke of the pen you fell more and more in love with him. Rarely did he ever mention the war, true to his earlier statement. Although, sometimes you wish he had. You wanted to know what life was like for him. You wanted to share in his struggles and emotional hardships. 

Every response contained a small couplet of a poem that he wrote for you, usually based upon the contents in your letter. However, they always made you smile. Although he wasn’t home, his letters made it feel as if he were only a moment away at all times. It made the loneliness of the vast estate and the quiet of your bedchambers more bearable as it filled with your laughter at his words.

And then the letters stopped.

You weren’t sure if it was something you had done or if something had happened, but you went through your days with a pit in your stomach. Something was wrong, but you didn’t know what. Weeks without correspondence turned to months and you found yourself retreating back into your worries and sadness. Part of you debated returning home to surround yourself with those you knew and loved.

The idea was growing more and more appealing as the seasons changed and you found yourself pulling the shawl tighter around yourself as you walked in the orchard. You had sent staff home for the season and were walking through the rows of trees with a basket in hand. Absentmindedly, you picked apples and placed them into the basket, letting the silence surround you.

Then you heard it.

The familiar clip clop of horses hooves up the gravel drive. 

You stood in disbelief, sure that you were hearing things until you saw the carriage come down the drive. The basket fell from your hands and you hiked up your skirts. You scrambled over fallen apples and tree roots to get back up the drive. 

Your heart hammered in your chest as you took in the body on the back of the cart. 

“No,” you whispered, dropping your gown. You walked towards the carriage in a haze.

“Ma’am, are you Mrs. Torrance?” the man driving the cart asked.

“Yes,” you breathed as he came to a stop.

The man nodded and got into the back of the carriage. “Come on, Danny. You’re home,” he said as he pulled a man up into a position so that he could help him walk.

You let out a breath of relief. _He’s alive._ Then, you rushed over to help the man carry your husband into the house. Together, the two of you managed to get him into bed.

“What happened?” you asked the man who had brought him.

“The Captain was sent sprawling from canon fire after being shot in the arm. We were deep in the South for weeks. I’m surprised he lasted as many skirmishes as he did. Then, he got hit down in Georgia. The camp doc was able to get the bullet out of his arm and disinfect it. It won’t go green on you, but he can’t shoot in this condition. If he can’t shoot, he’s better off staying home,” the man explained. “Besides, the doc said that being home with his lovely wife would recover him faster than seeing our ugly mugs.”

You had to crack a smile at that.

“Ma’am, if I may be so bold,” the man replied, “Your husband is one of the bravest men I’ve ever known. I wish him a speedy recovery.”

“Thank you,” you murmured, seeing the other man out the door. 

After he left, you returned to the side of the bed with some fresh water and cloths. Gently, you dabbed at your husband’s face, cleaning off the dirt and ash that had settled there.

“I must look like a mess,” he murmured, eyes still closed.

“No worse than when I married you,” you teased.

“You wound me more than any bullet could,” he smirked, opening his eyes to look at you. They softened as he saw the worry lines etched on your face. Gently, he reached up with his good arm to swipe away a tear you hadn’t noticed.

You covered his hand with your own, leaning into his touch. “When you didn’t respond,” you sniffled, “I thought the worst. I thought you were killed or that you regretted this.”

“Oh, sweetheart, never,” he sighed, rubbing his thumb along your cheek. “I promised you I’d come back.”

“In one piece, Captain,” you shot back.

“Dan,” he smirked. “If you’re going to yell at me, at least use my given name.”

You couldn’t stay mad at him. It was in that moment that you realized, full and truly that you loved him. Yet, in the back of your mind, you remembered all the constraint of your wedding night and the distance he had purposely put between the two of you.

“We’ve got to clean you up,” you replied. “If your face is this dirty, I can’t imagine what the rest of you is like.”

Dan winced as you helped him sit up before gently starting to disrobe his torso. 

Avoiding eye contact, you set to work smoothing a clean cloth over his body, working in slow circles to clear the caked on dirt and grime. 

“You’re holding your breath,” you murmured, looking up at him through your lashes as you focused on his chest.

“You’re so close,” he replied.

“I’m your wife,” you said with a chuckle, “Is it so wrong that I am close?”

“No,” he swallowed, “I’m just not used to it.”

You nodded, finishing up your work. “I’ll wash your uniform. Let me just find you some replacement clothes first.”

“I can dress myself,” he quickly said.

You gave him a skeptical look. “If you need me, call for me. I should start dinner soon.”

He nodded, watching you as you left.

As the door clicked shut behind you, a feeling of disappointment washed over you. It wasn’t a flat out rejection, but it felt like one. Perhaps you were overthinking it. You shoved it aside and decided to work at the matter at hand, nursing your husband back to health.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Over the next couple of weeks, the two of you grew closer. You’d talk in the sun room over tea; you’d read together in the study; you even showed him how you had redecorated the secret library to suit your interests. Discussion flowed just as easily now as it had in your letters. Yet, every time you’d make physical progress towards intimacy, he’d pull back. 

It was infuriating. 

One day, while you were picking apples in the fields together, you confronted him. “Why do you always pull away when I get close?”

Dan stopped a few paces behind you while still holding the basket, “What do you mean?”

“Whenever I get too close to you, you pull away. It’s like we take three steps forward and two steps back,” you sighed, turning back to face him. Gently, you took the basket from him and placed it on the ground to take his hand. 

He interlocked his fingers with yours, “I don’t always.”

“Dan,” you murmured. **“I….think I’m in love.”**

He dropped your hand and shook his head. “You can’t mean that.”

“I can, and I _do_ ,” you pleaded.

He was pulling away yet again, but this time you wouldn’t let him. Gripping the collar of his shirt, you pulled him down to your level and kissed him. To your surprise, he started to kiss back. His arm snaked around your waist to pull you flush against him before he pinned you to a tree. His hand came up to cup the side of your face as he deepened the kiss. Your mind was racing as you registered the feeling of his soft lips against yours. How someone could kiss in such a loving, yet passionate way was new to you. Eventually, you broke the kiss for air.

“I thought you didn’t-” you started.

“I love you,” Dan said sincerely.

“But-”

He gave you another quick kiss. “I know you didn’t want this, so I didn’t want to push you.”

“I didn’t at first,” you admitted, leaning your head back against the tree trunk to look up at him. “But, then I got to know you and I fell in love with you.”

“Oh?” he asked with a large grin on his face. 

“Yes,” you grinned back. “I’m proud to be Mrs. Torrance.”

Without warning, he scooped you up in his arms. 

“Danny!” you laughed as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “What are you doing?”

“If you remember correctly, I told you that I wanted to carry you into our home when you moved in here,” Dan told him. “I plan to do that.”

You rested your head on his shoulder. “I won’t protest.”

He carried you through the house and towards the bedroom. As he opened the door with his back, you heard the distant sound of bells.

“What’s that about?” you asked curiously.

Dan beamed as he looked down at you. “The war’s over. Those are the celebration bells.”

“So you’re home for good now?” you asked, trying to keep the obvious glee from your voice.

“I’m home for good,” he grinned before kissing you deeply as he lowered you to the bed.


End file.
